


Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away

by Flirty_Banana



Series: Sun Through the Clouds [3]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alexander is just scared and vengeful, Angst and darkness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Juliette, Beware, Bisexual Nick - Freeform, Dark, He really is just a fluffy boi, It gets real dark in here, Just Not Right Now, M/M, Nick Whump, Recovery, Torture, Whump, it even scared me a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 10:54:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flirty_Banana/pseuds/Flirty_Banana
Summary: He was doing the dishes, when he gets the call.Scrubbing the white platter, with the tiny yellow flowers painted in the ceramic, soap suds up to his elbows, and shirt sleeves rolled past them.He was humming to Yesterday by the beetles, Nick’s favorite song.When his phone rings, and it feels like his world. Just. Stops.The platter falls from limp fingers, shattering on the tiles of the kitchen floor, and he is out the door within the next second, his car screeching out of the driveway.Because Nick is gone.And they don’t know where he is.*This is an original scenario of my own making to serve as my daily fix of messed up fiction, and Alexander/Nick OTP*





	Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm back again. At 2 AM with another plug in into this series.
> 
> Be warned! This is not going to be a happy cute story like the first two. 
> 
> Meaning.
> 
> It gets really fucked up.

He beats at the worn, rusted metal door, his claws bent and broken, his fingers bleeding. 

_They took him from you_

Tears cloud his vision, streaming hot down his face.

_He’s gone, and he might not come back._

Anger, and frustration, and panic, and worry, and _so much more_ clog his throat, trying to choke him.

The echo of Nick’s scream is bouncing all around him, up and down and sideways along the walls of the warehouse around him. Dimly he can others yelling to, yelling for him, for Nick, for him to stop, for _them_ to stop.

_He’s going to leave you, and you can’t do shit._

He screams, human hands beating against the door. His voice cracks, and it breaks off into a broken sob. Sliding down the metal door to settle on the cold, concrete ground, blood trailing after him.

He thinks of Nick, of his dearest Grimm, and he thinks of sunshine. The brightness of his smile, the way his laughter seems to stop time, the way his brow furrows when he thinks too hard, how his eyes glitter when he thinks of something particularly wicked. 

And he doesn’t want to believe it.

_You really are worthless._

But he can not help the dark tendrils that worm into his very heart and soul, that say that Nick will be gone forever, that he will lose his light to the darkness. 

_Nick’s scream echoes again._

Alexander puts hands over his ears, and screams right back. 

_________

He was doing the dishes, when he gets the call.

Scrubbing the white platter, with the tiny yellow flowers painted in the ceramic, soap suds up to his elbows, and shirt sleeves rolled past them. 

He was humming to _Yesterday_ by the beetles, Nick’s favorite song.

When his phone rings, and it feels like his world. Just. Stops.

The platter falls from limp fingers, shattering on the tiles of the kitchen floor. He is out the door within the next second, his car screeching out of the driveway. 

Because Nick is gone.

And they don’t know where he is.

__________

It is a frantic search for the better part of two days.

Hank says the only reason it didn’t take longer, is because Alexander has a scarily good nose. Wu says it was because he spent so much time snorting Nick’s scent and just can’t smell anything else. The others all give different reasons, they are just trying to be comforting. 

It doesn’t work.

His hair is a wreck, and he hasn’t changed his shirt since the call. 

But they have an address now, and that is all he needs.

___________

Alexander does not get the door open.

Instead, he claws his way to a window and beats his hands even more bloody, until the window cracks and shatters beneath his palms. He throws himself through, never mind the fifteen foot drop, and slams into the concrete below. The person who took Nick—

_Stole him from us, beat him, tortured him, kill him Kill him KillKillKill_ **_KillHIM—_ **

He is long gone by now, and in his stead there is Nick, bright and steady and happy and shinning, and hyper Nick. He is so very still now.  
 ****

Alexander stumbles towards him. Nick is tied to a chair, chains digging in to his wrists deeply, scraping against bone from how much he must have struggled. He is drenched in his own blood.

There is just so much of it. 

On him.

On the floor. 

On the chair. 

Dripping from his face, 

drip drip drip _drip drip_ ** _drip—_**

But he is so very still.

For five, long, heart stopping seconds, Alexander believes him dead.

He nearly collapses when he finds his pulse, there but weak, and fading quickly. Alexander rips the chains from his dearest, in this he will not fail.

He would make Nick safe again, and then he would keep him that way.

__________

He paces the hospital room anxiously, barely keeping his face human.

There is an officer at the door, and Hank is standing silent next to the bed, Rosalee, and Monroe seated on the other side. Juliette has situated herself at the foot of the bed, nearly wrapped around Nick’s feet.

The only part left of him that isn’t so utterly _broken._

He can’t keep still because if he does then he will think of all that was, and what could have been, and what should have been. He can’t bare to look upon Nick in his hospital bed, looking so small, and broken and _so still, damn it why._

The kidnaper in the warehouse may have run off before Alexander could see him, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways of finding him.

But first Nick. Always Nick.

Alexander has a scent, it doesn’t matter when he starts hunting.

__________

It takes a while, three months to be exact. Before Nick is deemed well enough to even move from his hospital room.

He already cleaned out a room on the ground floor of their house, because Nick can’t walk up stairs yet, _not with those legs—_ He blinks rapidly, tears of frustration, and anger and hatred barely kept at bay. Hatred of himself, and hatred at the one who had done this to Grimm.

They have physical therapy everyday, at home of course because even getting out of bed is a task, and therapy sessions in the hospital every Wednesday. The trauma therapist is every Tuesday and Friday, and the police sanctioned psychologist is every Sunday.

The therapist is Alexanders idea. The psychologist is required. 

Alexander would get Nick safe again, he would wait for the nightmares to slow (not stop, things like this will always be there, but eventually it will get easier. More bearable.) for the trembling in his hands to lessen, for him to stop looking over his shoulder, for him to be able to stand, and walk, and run again.

Then, and only then, will Alexander hunt. He can wait, he is patient, always has been.

He has all the time in the world.

____________

It takes a very long time, so long in fact that others have begun to give up. 

Of course, they don’t say it aloud, but Alexander can see it plain as day. In the flicker in Rosalee’s eyes when Nick’s fork falls from shaking fingers. In the set of Monroe’s mouth, as he pulls Nick to his feet, and helps him gain his balance from where he had fallen again. In the slump of Juliette’s shoulders as she helps Nick to his crutches. In the way that Hank and Wu reach for Nick and then stop, as if they are afraid their touch will break him.

It takes so long, that even Nick begins to give up on himself.

But Alexander won’t. Wont give up Nick, and won’t let Nick give up on himself.

It takes awhile, but finally Nick is in a semblance of working order again. _And it shows._

He smiles more, when he cuts his food and doesn’t drop his fork once, when he doesn’t need someone to pick up something he dropped.

He positively _glows_ when he lifts himself from bed, and manages to hobble himself to the bathroom and back without falling. 

And Alexander is there the whole time, ready to help but never hovering. (He knows the feeling of being smothered when you so desperately want to prove to everyone else, and even to yourself, that you _can do it.)_

Alexander breathes a sigh of relief when Nick starts sleeping through the night, stops looking over his shoulder so often, until he rarely does it anymore. Smiles when Nick stops staring suspiciously into the shadow of the street, stops jumping at any loud noise.

Alexander is so very happy when Nick starts making more efforts to spend time with his friends, even leaving the house, when he had been so determined to stay cooped up before. 

He can rest easier now, that he knows Nick is on the road to recovery, and that Nick himself knows it too now. It will take a longer time yet, but Alexander has all the time in the world.

And nowhere better to spend it.

__________

Alexander has waited long enough.

Not that he had grown impatient, he never would, not when it concerned Nick. But he did not want to wait any longer to destroy the one who that had done this to his dearest Grimm. The one that had nearly broken the only thing that truly gave meaning to his existence. That had nearly shattered someone so strong and bright.

It was unforgivable.

And Alexander would ensure they would never be around to try and do it again.

__________

He sets off in early afternoon, content in the knowledge that Nick is having a lovely afternoon with his friends, and that Juliette will take his place as vigil at Nicks bedside that night. 

__________

Alexander finds the bastard, and he _knows_ who it is.

It is a nasty double agent by the name of Evans. But this is not a mission handed out by either side of Evans’ dual loyalties (the council especially knows better than to piss off the Grimm, and in turn piss off their best agent who, coincidently, knows all their secrets.) 

Alexander knows this because Evans is a turncoat of the worst kind, betraying both sides of the equation and selling off any information he got hold of to the highest bidder, and then turning into a hitman/mercenary by trade.

He also knows that Evans has extremely old fashioned beliefs, and also despises Alexander. 

Meaning, Evans most likely heard of Alexanders involvement with Nick (and they both have quite the sizable bounty, so why not if you’re in the area?) and became very…upset.

None of this truly matters to Alexander, and the voice that would usually scream abuse at him— 

_This is your fault, you put Nick into danger because Evans made it personal._

Is silenced. 

Because all Alexander has to do, is envision Nick, with his disapproving yet fond smile, and how he would shake his head and roll his eyes in exasperation. How he would explain to him, in a loving voice, soft tones, and kind eyes exactly why it wasn’t his fault, and just how stupid he is for even thinking it.

It still doesn’t stop Alexander from seeing red.

_________

Evans was easy.

Alexander waited until he left, lured him into the alley, and pounced.

He pinned him, threw him, ripped him apart piece by piece and watched in glee as Evans finally _broke_.

No one would come to his rescue, a rather sizable donation into the bar keeps pockets assured him of that. And oh, Alexander is happy to make use of the time.

He will not kill Evans, he had already decided that long ago. No, that honor will fall to the one that hired him. Instead he would leave Evans broken, like he tried to break Nick, but there would be no mercy for him, no light at the end of the tunnel, no hope of ever picking up the pieces.

Just like what Evans tried to do to Nick.

He takes his limbs from him first, lazy dragging claws through flesh, and blood, and bone, before he finally deigns to pluck his tendons apart. 

He will never walk again.

He will never move his arms again. Unable to touch another, to hug his heart close, to defend himself against the darkness in the world.

_Just like how he tried to make Nick._

Then he takes his time, breaking each, and every, finger and toe. He shatters his legs, caves in his ribs, and happily peels the flesh off his right side, from ribcage to hipbone. 

He doesn’t have a blow torch, like the one Evans pulled on Nick, but he supposes this will have to do.

And among all the crying, sniveling, screaming, Alexander hears a name. 

_Finally._

He plucks out his eyes.

Cuts out his tongue.

And slices out his ears.

He will never truly live again, survive perhaps if the siren sounds are anything to go by, but he will never _live_ again.

Alexander finds it funny, ironic really, that he has already managed to render Evans into a whimpering, useless, piece of flesh.

__________

Alexander is back home by midday.

Nick is still doing just fine, no nightmare either according to Juliette, and is happy to see him back so soon from his… _business_ trip. 

It is three months later that Alexander can finally rest easy. He is laying on the couch, a dozing Grimm between his legs, and re-runs of “I Dream of Jeannie” playing. 

His phone buzzes quietly and he picks it up, a single text is sent, as well as, an attachment. He clicks it open lazily, and his smile is _sadistic glee._ The attachment contains a picture of an older man. His eyes gone and his body utterly broken. 

Obviously he is dead.

Calium Larson. An ex council member, with some very bad habits, questionable beliefs, and…regrettable associates. No one will care that he is gone, and no one will be brave, or stupid, enough to look any deeper than to label it as it appears. A job gone wrong. 

He relaxes fully into the couch, burying his nose in his Grimm’s hair and smiling. He could not go after Calium, didn’t want to either really, because he priorities what is most important, and that is Nick. 

He could pick off Evans himself, he knew where he was and he was easy to get to, he could off him quickly, and return to Nick in a timely manner. But Calium was across an ocean and under heavy guard, it would have taken far to long for Alexander to go their, do the job, and come back home.

Nick would be unguarded, and without him the whole time. So all Alexander really needed was confirmation of his suffering and subsequent death.

He holds Nick closer, arms wound tightly, but very carefully, around him. He did not care who took the old fools life, so long as he was _gone_ and could never touch his Grimm again.

He made Nick safe again. Now he will keep him that way.

 

~End

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well that spiraled out of control real fast. I really did sit down with the intention of writing a happy, sweet, fluffy thing to go into the series.
> 
> But damn does my muse like to steal from me and run away.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this! And I think I will be writing another installment someday that will for sure be MUCH more happy, and cut, and fluffy.
> 
> Just like how this all first started.


End file.
